


Have Love, Will Travel

by Blanquette



Series: Corner Bakery [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Instagram, M/M, One Shot, Pastries, Pining, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanquette/pseuds/Blanquette
Summary: Changkyun is always gone halfway around the world.





	Have Love, Will Travel

Changkyun is looking for a reason to stay. He doesn’t know what it will be yet. He just knows he’ll recognize it when it comes.

 

“You can keep the change, hyung. I won’t need it for a while.”

The black-haired man behind the counter puts his hand down, still gripping a crinkled one thousand bill. He smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Off again?”

“Finland this time.”

Changkyun is beaming. He always looks the happiest when he’s about to leave, Kihyun noticed some time ago. As if he was standing on the verge of something extraordinary. Then he comes back, and that smile is gone, replaced by a wistful look that soon turns hopeful when he sets his sights on yet another destination. The younger man always comes back, though, and Kihyun is grateful for that.

“Don’t go out of business while I’m gone, alright?”

“I’m sure I can survive your absence.”

He sure can. The little bakery has been standing on the same corner for close to five years now, bringing in a steady flow of clients that never wavered. Kihyun knows his baking isn’t extraordinary, but it’s good enough, and the efforts he put in creating a welcoming space, sheltered from the city’s noise and crushing pace, have been rewarded.

He gives Changkyun his paper bag full of croissants, some thrown in extra because well, he won’t see him for a while, and does his best to say cheerful farewells, good luck, see you soon, bon voyage. Changkyun is gone like a dream, the door closing on him with the happy jingling of its bell. He should never have put this stupid bell here, Kihyun thinks. There’s nothing to be happily jingling about.

Kihyun decides he can allow himself to close early for the night and seeks refuge in his kitchen, doing his best to ignore the twinge of sorrow in his heart. He flips through several books before finding the recipe that he wants, and goes about making some eighty korvapuusti for a good part of the night.

When he goes to bed in the small apartment just above the shop, he smells like cinnamon and is so tired he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. If he dreams of snow, it doesn’t mean anything.

 

It’s two weeks and a half before Kihyun allows himself to check Changkyun’s Instagram. There’s tall trees, lakes, a bonfire on a beach at night. A tall blond guy sitting on a pier, looking up at the camera with a bright smile. Kihyun is staring at his face, as if somewhere in there lies the answer to the pressing question of _who the hell is he?_

He hears the bell jingle, puts his phone down and looks up with his business smile. It turns more genuine when he recognizes the tall figure making its way to the counter.

“Hey hyung, working hard?”

“It’s been a calm morning.”

Hyungwon smiles, looks at the displays of fresh pastries, and almost immediately looks back at Kihyun with raised eyebrows.

“What is all this?”

There’s at least three piles of small cinnamon buns taking up most of the space in the display. Kihyun feels his face turn red.

“I went a bit overboard last night.”

“Only a bit?”

Hyungwon goes back to squint at the little tag in front of the pastries.

“Korvapuusti? Where is that from?”

“Finland.”

Hyungwon’s expression turns conspiratory, and he leans a bit on the counter.

“Is that where he went this time?”

Kihyun nods, looking away, trying to school his features into something neutral.

“Man, you always pick the most available guys to have a crush on.”

“Remind me, how is it going with one Lee Minhyuk?”

“Point taken. So, can I have one?”

He gets three, goes to eat them at the nearest table with a coffee. Kihyun looks back down at the picture of the blond man, shrugs, and turns his phone off. There are things he cannot be a part of. He looks around at his little shop, the nice wooden tables, the pretty chairs he spent so long picking, the calligraphy and drawings adorning the walls, all signed by Minhyuk. This is his universe. It doesn’t extend to halfway across the world.

 

Changkyun doesn’t come back. There’s a plane ticket to Italy, with the caption _“while I_ _’m in Europe, might as well do a tour!_ _”_ underneath it. There’s just one ticket, Kihyun notes. He hopes the blond guy fell in a lake and drowned. And almost immediately feels bad for wishing ill upon an innocent. There’s a small cough and he startles, putting his phone down on the counter a bit violently, apologizing to the customer he didn’t hear enter.

A cake and six cream puffs later he takes his phone back, and as his eyes fell on a red heart, earth opens under him. He liked the picture. Un-liking it would probably make it worse, so he readies himself to embrace his fate, when he gets a follow and a message.

 _I didn_ _’t know you were on instagram, hyung!_

 _I just started,_ he lies, and since he’s trapped, he starts putting up pictures too.

 

The new pastries he’s experimenting with (there’s cannoli, kougelhopf, mantecados, napoleonka… the shop becomes a must amongst amateurs of foreign pastries).

A picture of him, hard at work, covered in flour, snapped by Hyungwon (who was responsible for the flour disaster).

At least half a dozen of Hoseok eating various things.

The flowers in front of the shop, or the way the light hits the glass storefront just right so as to print a rainbow on the small tables. He gets likes, and comments, never from the one person he wants.

Time passes by and people come and go in his pictures too. He’s at Seoul Pride, a tall, black-haired man looping an arm around his waist, both smiling, face covered in smudges of colors. The same man appears eating pastries, _exploiting this hyung as a taste-tester_ , there’s a selfie of them at the beach, of the tall guy playing with a dog, of a dinner at candlelight.

And then it’s just Kihyun and his shop again. Hyungwon sitting on a couch next to a blond man with a nice smile. There’s a tall muscular guy at the gym, _I_ _’ll never go with him again_ , some pictures with a petite, pretty woman that disappears soon enough, too, the last one of her standing before the sea, sundress fluttering in the wind.   

There’s some Kihyun really likes, him and Jooheon siting on the beach at Wolmido, a couple from their trip to Busan. One of Hoseok laughing, mouth wide, one of himself laughing, where he looks bright and carefree, a smudge of batter on his cheek.

It’s after this one that he gets a message again. It’s been months. _I_ _’m coming back_ , it says, and Kihyun is staring at it for way too long.

 

When Changkyun comes back, it’s a bit late, and it’s raining. There is no way the little bakery down the street will be opened, but he still goes. Turns out it is, light and music spilling out on the sidewalk. There’s a party going on, and when he gingerly enters, he’s greeted by a visibly drunk guy with a sunny smile. He recognizes him from some of Kihyun’s pictures. The guy was eating in almost all of them. He recognizes other people, too. The man from the gym. The tall, slim one, who’s sited on a chair, half draped over a blond man, who must be _Minhyuk, our resident artist._ There is a lot of people he doesn’t know as well, and he cannot see Kihyun.

“Welcome, welcome”, the guy ushers him in. “You’re late. Wait, who are you again?”

“Lim Changkyun. What is this party for?”

There’s a spark of recognition in the man’s eyes, but it quickly drowns amidst alcoholic vapors.

“Our Kihyun got a magazine spread. It’s huge! The magazine, not the spread. The magazine is huge. Anyway, it’s great. So we, his friends, forced him to throw a party.”

“Where is he?”

“Kihyun? Making more food. In the kitchen. You can go.”

The guy pilots him to the kitchen door. Changkyun misses him pointing at the back of his head, mouthing “Lim Changkyun” to Hyungwon, who’s too sleepy to react. He gives Changkyun a pat on the shoulder and a thumb up before disappearing in the small crowd.

The music gets muted when he closes the door behind him. Kihyun doesn’t notice him, too focused on filling two dozen of cream puffs, neatly putting them in rows on a plate. He looks disheveled, there’s dried batter on his left wrist, and his cheeks have taken on a rosy tint, from the alcohol, the warmth, or the effort, Changkyun can’t really tell.

He takes a step towards him, another one, and Kihyun looks up when his pastry bag is finally empty. He just stares, eyes wide.

“Hey, hyung.”

Kihyun fusses with the bag, wipes one of his hands on his apron, slicks his hair back.

“Hey. I didn’t know you’d be…. Hey. Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good. Congrats on the magazine.”

“Ah, yeah, thanks. It doesn’t really warrant a party, to be honest. They just wanted an excuse to get drunk.”

“It’s a nice excuse.”

“I guess.”

Kihyun looks a bit awkward, shuffling from one foot to the other, eyes darting from his cream puffs to Changkyun, standing there in his kitchen.

“I really… didn’t expect you. When did you get back?”

“A couple hours ago, actually.”

“And you came straight here?”

Changkyun smiles, takes another step forward.

“Well, I went home first, but I guess, yeah.”

“Why?”

Kihyun has stopped moving, he’s stiff as a tree. It’s Changkyun’s turn to be awkward now.

“You know, that picture… The one where you’re smiling, with batter on your cheek. You looked really happy, and…”

 

He was in Croatia when he saw it, sitting alone on a pier. The sea was blue, like sapphire. There was a nice breeze, clouds drifting gently in the sky. It was perfect, really. He had taken a picture, to remember this instant where everything was ideal. When he had opened his instagram to put it up, Kihyun was staring back at him. Smiling at someone that wasn’t him, eyes shining, black hair swiped back. It wasn’t really well framed, as if the person had been running away from a laughing Kihyun when taking it. He was beautiful, and it made Changkyun unbelievably sad, staring alone at the perfect sea.

 

“It made me so homesick. I just… I mean, all the time, seeing your pictures, it was great, but it made me sad, too. And then there was this one, and I thought, I should be there. Not halfway across the world. I don’t know. It’s dumb. You got a spread in a magazine and I feel like I should have been there to push for a party, too. And I know you missed me as well cause you keep making pastries from the countries I’m in.”  

There’s a clunk when Kihyun puts down his pastry bag on the counter, cream puffs all but forgotten. He’s crossing the space separating them in hurried steps, and soon enough, he’s framing Changkyun’s face with his hands and kissing him. It’s sweet, tastes like vanilla because he kept eating his own custard.

He lets go with a gasp, and they both look flushed, Changkyun slightly stumbling.

“Yeah, I guess, I guess I came back for you.”

 

It’s later, much later, when weeks stretch into months, that Changkyun realizes he doesn’t feel that wanderlust anymore, that deep feeling that would pull him to every corner of the world, never satisfied. Instead he explores Kihyun. It starts slow, tracing lines on his body, swallowing gasps and whispers. But there’s a whole universe to Kihyun, a universe of tastes, smells, laughter, deep conversations late at night, on Saturdays, when they’re too lazy to go out. There’s also a myriad of people Kihyun pulls into his orbit, and Changkyun learns to know every one of them. He’s seen the sights, but what Kihyun shows him goes much deeper than that.

What he found isn’t a reason to stay, it’s a reason to come back. Every time. When months turn into years, he starts traveling again, makes it into a job, writes books and takes pictures. Because he wants to show Kihyun everything. Kihyun, who won’t leave the little universe he’s built in his corner shop that still stands in the same place. The stays are shorter. He always brings back recipes to try, things to taste. Kihyun doesn’t mind him living. He misses him, but there’s pictures, tales of adventures, calls late at night or early in the morning. It fills his head with images and he feels like he’s there with him.

When Changkyun comes back, the little shop closes, and they’re dead to the world until the food runs out.


End file.
